Love The Way You Lie
by PleaseforPeace
Summary: Besides destroying half the city, and the considerable amount of remodeling at Stark Tower, the Avenger's initiative could be summarized as an overall success. They narrowly evaded the end of the world- and managed to go to lunch shortly after. How they manage after- that is a different matter. Stony angst, love/hate. Oh, and Tony might be a masochist.
1. Prologue

**A/N: This is a sort of love/hate Stony fanfic. It sort became a muse after listening to "Love The Way You Lie by Eminem and Rihanna". So, yeah. Angst, and possible fluff. Enjoy!**

Tony Stark - genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. And Tony Stark had quite the reputation, one he upheld _religiously._ Which, was much to the disapproval of the Good Old Captain. He may, or may not, Tony couldn't remember- of mentioned that Tony's habits were "_inappropriate, and detrimental to the teams 'good image'". _And just as Tony was about to ask - what good image - Rogers walked out on him. Funny thing was he sure as hell didn't see anybody else making an effort to have 'good image'. So, he wondered what made him so special to have to get preached to by the Captain, because it was just _unfair_ to play favorites.

The big, bad problem here was that some, small, part of Tony still looked up to Captain America. He disgustingly worshipped the man when he was a boy; he collected every card, action figure, poster- name it, he had it. His father filled him up to his head with stories about the legend, well, that was when his father actually had time. More than often, that was after a long night of working in the shop, or when he was too drunk to manage little more than speaking. Tony grew out of his fan-boy phase as he got older- and grew bitter. Bitter that his father cared more a man that was more than likely dead, than his own son. The whole my-father-didn't-love-me complex, blah blah.

Honestly, though, Tony could handle this, if it really was just a little fan-body crush he still had for Rogers. But it wasn't. It also had to do with the first time they met. He had heard that Captain America had been found, and with many mixed emotions, he decided to go and meet him shortly after he awoke. Fury wasn't completely supportive of the idea, as he didn't want Tony's futuristic "tech-speak" to confuse or upset Cap. But then, Fury hadn't really stopped him before, so Tony sneaked in for a visit.

* * *

It wasn't how he imagined it when he was twelve, meeting the living legend. The room was small, a soft shade of cream, with a poster, a bed, and an old radio. It was like walking into a time capsule. Steve Rogers sat at the edge of the bed, listening to the radio, his face distant- to say the least. He instantly felt a strange pain in his chest, unconciously reaching to cover the arc reactor with his hand. Seconds ticked by, and just as thought of fleeing from the scene- Steve looked up at him.

Tony didn't know what his face looked like at the time, but he guessed it was equvialent to a child being caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "I-" he began.

"You must be Mr. Stark," Rogers interrupted, eyes softening ever so slightly.

"How did you-?"

"Fury," the Captain confessed with an amused grin, "he told me that you'd come, eventually."

He inwardly cursed at Fury, for knowing him so well. Next time he saw the man, he was going to give him hell for baiting him with Captain America. Because, really, who could resist? Even now, he could practically feel himself melting.

"Anyway, it is nice to meet you Mr. Stark, my name is Steve-" he cut in to Tony's thoughts after a while, politely offering his hand.

As much as he hated being handed things (or shaking hands), he'd be damned if he didn't shake the hand of Captain America, er, Steve. "Please, Mr. Stark is too formal- sounds like my father, call me Tony."

"Howard," Steve called, eyes glazing over with melancholy, "you look like him," Tony tried his best to not visibly wince at the comparison. "He was a good man."

Tony looked away, thankful Steve was too much in his own world to notice. "Yeah, yeah, he really was," he responded softly.

It was then that the door behind Tony slid open, making the two both jump back to their senses. Fury strode in, smirk in place as he moved to pat Steve on the shoulder. "Well, Tony Stark, is nice of you to join us, at last. You are just in time for the debriefing."

Fury was a scary motherfucker.

* * *

Which just reminded Tony- he needed to pay Fury back. He was just debating on whether to create a robot that would detonate a deadly stink bomb, or one that would follow Fury around playing _di_sco_,_ when there was a knock at the door. It was Steve, looking slightly irritable on the other side of the glass. Pros and cons of having glass doors, you could see who was coming in and they could see you. It's not like he could just pretend he never saw Steve standing there, hands practically on his hips and foot tapping.

He wheeled around, facing away from the door, letting out an sigh. He was going to get scolded. "Let Rogers in Jarvis," he said, picking up the gauntlet on his desk, pretending to be tinkering with the wires he had long deserted.

He watched, from the corner as Steve opened the door, and stormed in. His jaw squared, determined, his brows srunched together, brooding. It's the last thing Tony can't stand about Steve. He has no right, no sense, to be that attractive when he is angry.


	2. Chapter 1

"_Stark_, I am honestly starting to believe you do these _things_ just to piss me off. Do you like pissing me off?"

Tony's heart skipped a slight beat at the Captain's stare. His full attention on Tony, all those childhood fantasies flashing in his mind. And, well, it made his blood rush. "Sorry, Cap, but couldn't you fill me on what _thing _I have done this time? I'd hate for us to be on different pages, but the same pages, good pages..."

"Don't act like you don't know already... I mean _this._" Steve slams down the newspaper. Tony has to crane his neck to read the sideways headline, which reads, 'IRONMAN PACKING SOME IRON?' below depicts a photo of Tony and the hot, young model he had taken to the benefit. He can't help but chuckle at the supposedly suggestive title. He had actually dropped her off at a hotel after the party, and then gone straight home to work in the lab. However, that was nobodies business- even Captain America's.

"O Captain, my Captain, don't fret. This is the average, I'd be more worried if they didn't write some innuendo headline about me."

Steve seemed to redden. Perhaps he was angry about the nickname, or perhaps that Tony was completely ignoring his concern. Either way, the little veins in his neck appeared to throb, and Tony had to hold back the sudden urge to lick them. "That's not the point. I thought we agreed, as a team, to improve our self images."

Tony couldn't resist this bait. He propped up his chin, forming that classy, cocky smirk, "I don't have anything to improve on."

"Stark. Don't."

"Look, Cap, we can't all be America's golden boy. I mean, you can, but that's not me. Haven't you heard, playboy, in my repertoire? It's a part of me, it is who I am."

Steve breathed out a sigh. "No, it's not. That is not who you are."

Now this was just getting frustrating, Tony was seriously sick of people telling him who he was- only he could decide that. He stood up, chest puffing out, as he came to face Steve. "Don't act like you _know _me, you know _nothing_ of me."

This seemed to make the Captain back up a little bit, if only a little. He moved closer, cornering Tony back until his ass was pressed up to one of the work benches. He crossed his arms across his chest, looking up into the Cap's unreadable expression. His face was so blank, so different from what Tony was used to. He chewed the inside of his cheek, wondering if he had pushed too far, if he had finally _broken_ Captain America. How much trouble would he be in for breaking Captain America?

"You are so _infuriating_," Steve mutters now, shaking his head as if he hasn't cornered Tony and is inches from his face. Tony can feel Steve's breath on his face as he lets out a long sigh.

"Yeah, well, I do have that effect on people," Tony breaths, almost out of breath. He stared at the freckle on that delicious jugular, that just was asking to be kissed, licked, and tasted. This was more torturous than anything Steve had ever dished out to him.

"And there you go, _again._"

The irritation in Steve's voice is enough to snap Tony from his daydream, and he gives Steve an innocent look. "Again?" he looked innocently up at the man, that dark look making an embarrassing amount of blood rush. It was just unfair, Tony didn't stand a chance here.

Steve's warm hand is grasping Tony's bicep, squeezing hard, "can I have attention for at least one _minute, _Stark?"

Tony can not be entirely blamed for what happened next. No, he is only human after all. He was cornered by a Captain Bloody America, who didn't seem know about personal bubbles. He was practically half hard, and now Steve was touching him. Oh no. It would not stand. Not when the Captain was just begging for it to be so. "I know _one_ way you can," he said as huskily. Oh, how fun it was to watch Steve's expression contort from confusion to surprise in the instant their lips connected.

Tony was waiting for it, the shove, the rejection. He was expecting it, but it didn't come. So, he dared to bite that soft, lower lip before pressing his tongue to enter. He hadn't expected Steve to open his mouth. Not at all. He hadn't expected or planned any of this. But he wasn't about to go making second guesses, not when he had his tongue divulging in a good taste of Steve. _Steve._

He was then finally shoved back, much to his disappointment, just when things were getting hot. It was just like Rogers to be a cock tease. Tony groaned in disappointment, looking back to those pink lips. "Just so we are clear, you asked for this _Stark_." And then lips returned. Beautiful, wonderful, inquiring lips. Only Tony was frozen under their precise, smooth moment. What. Just. Happened? Did Steve just agree or consent? Fuck it. He bounced back with renewed energy, opening his lips to the probing tongue, only to fight for control._  
_

Steve's hand was like a vice on his hand, clenching so tight and hard, Tony was sure he was going to have a bruise there. He didn't really care though, he just moaned around the Captain's surprisingly experienced tongue. God, it was such a sin for sweet, blushing Steve to every one of Tony's wet dreams. He might hate him a little more. He surrendered to it, if only for a moment. He grounded against Steve, only to intoxicate a moan, much to his delight.

"Fuck you," Steve mumbles, holding Tony's hips, stilling him as punishment for his crude action.

"Well, that generally _is _the idea here, Steve."

And, oh, how Tony pays for his insolent mouth.


End file.
